It's Back
by StormTrooper94
Summary: Two police officers are called into an incident near Derry. WARNING: do not read if you are at all squeamish. Rated: T for gore, no violence, language or sexual themes. Again, don't read if you are squeamish, please.
1. Part 1

The two police officers had been called in to the scene of an incident which took place a couple of miles South of Derry. They turned to walk along the street together when a small gust of wind blew past them. They turned towards where the wind blew towards but realised that, no matter what happened, they would still have to face what they went there to face, regardless of what it may turn out to be.

An awkward silence was lingering between them. They knew that you couldn't live anywhere near Derry without having heard about the kinds of things that happen there, well, unless you lived under a rock that is. They were always huge events: hundreds of police officers poking around trying to catch the culprit, and because of that, they didn't want to discuss what might be lurking around the corner, or what they might see. There are some things that, despite how hard you try, you can't _un_-see.

It had been raining for two days straight, cold raindrops pelting the windows of houses and cars, awnings collapsing under the weight of water and streets becoming deserted, trees losing their branches to the wind, there had even been one or two trees collapsing, but it had all stopped exactly an hour ago, which was hopefully long enough for all of the evidence to still be intact. They were there during a lull in the storm where the wind had dropped and the rain had stopped, but the grass was still wet, there were giant puddles lining the streets and there was a sense of heaviness in the air, as if the storm could start up again any second. Whenever it rained in and around Derry, it _rained_. A river ran down the side of the road, flowing freely into the storm drains and the pipes running just below the ground. The overflow from the roads was so heavy that the two of them could hear it running beneath their feet as they walked, and they were hardly light walkers. Slowly, and as steadily as the flow of water through the pipes, they neared the corner past which was the scene they had come to investigate, but as they braced themselves for what might come, their pace slowed to little more than a snail's.

As they turned the corner and saw what they had been dreading seeing, a strong stench hit them, causing them to spin away from the mess which was in front of them. On the ground was a puddle unlike any other. It was a deep crimson red colour and beside it lay a grass stained, white, training shoe with flecks of dry blood lining the tongue. Strips of fabric lay next to the wall, also stained with blood. They walked slowly along the road, trying to avoid stepping in any of the bloody puddles, when they found the object that they had been dreading the most. Lying beside a very expensive looking brown leather wallet lay a recently dead body. It had almost been ripped to shreds. Down the left hand side of the face were four long cuts, nail marks most likely. The blood had been streaming out of the cuts and had created a puddle which surrounded the slumped, lifeless, head. Judging by the size of the puddle, the amount of blood and the angle at which the head was lying, the skull had also been cracked in the collision with the ground. One of the arms looked as if something, or someone, had attempted to chew through it. There was no skin left on the area, it was red, there were pink strips of muscle hanging from the wound and the blood was running off into the gutter. A small raindrop fell from above them and, looking up, they saw an orange balloon stuck to a dimly lit street lamp. Then, when they were looking down, they saw that, on the wall, scrawled in blood were the words "We all float down here".

That was when the weather came back in. First, there came a strong gust of wind that blew the balloon away into the dark grey, cloud filled sky. Then, lightly at first, progressing into a flood, the rain started to fall again. It washed the blood down the side of the street and into the storm drain. They stepped back as it flowed freely down in a river beside them, washing away strips of clothing and clumps of fallen leaves from further up the road. It washed away the writing on the wall in long steady streams, which added to the river of blood running down the hill. They managed to catch the leather wallet before it was washed away into the sea of water in the storm drains. They shook off the majority of the water before opening it to see who the unfortunate victim was, but all identification had been taken out as if it had all been planned. The two officers looked at each other with a look of dread and the one nearest to the wall asked:

"So, what's going on?" and the reply,

"It's back."


	2. Snow

_**This is the second instalment of "It's Back". The first chapter was going to be a one-shot but after I was asked to write more to this, I decided that I should. **_

_**This idea came to me when it was really snowy outside and it's been a work in progress since.**_

_**I hope you enjoy it. X**_

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The snow had come in this Christmas. It was the first white Christmas in a long time; almost ten years. Back then all of the roads in and out of town were closed off. The bridge stretching the width of the river had almost collapsed under the weight of the snow, and people started panic buying supplies through fear of being trapped in their houses all winter. This time, however, the authorities had been more prepared for the snow when it came. The roads had been gritted in anticipation of the oncoming blizzards and cold weather. But despite all of their efforts, the temperature had been so low that the snow lay instantly on every visible surface outside.

It first showed up at night, the white fluttering to the ground thinly to begin with, and getting heavier and heavier throughout the course of the night. By morning, there was no longer any grass to be seen: the town and the surrounding area were white as far as the eye could see. The snow lying on the ground had thickened steadily over the winter, and it was lying at about 20 inches when the snowfall had evened out and started to fall more gently again.

It had become a ghost town. There were hardly any people brave enough to go outside and face the elements. The only people outside were children being pulled up the few steep hills at the edge of town on their sledges so they could be let go to slide to the bottom, where they would either glide gently to a stop or end up in a tangle of limbs, rope and hair.

At the top of one of the hills sat a young girl on a red painted sledge looking blankly at the hills in the distance. She had been left up there on her own by her older brother who went to go sledging with his own friends instead. Her shiny red hair was blowing gently around her face as she admired the snowy landscape. The snow lay thick and heavy on the bare braches of the trees, causing them to bend slightly under the weight. The evergreens were dusted with a light sprinkle of snow that resembled sugar shaken through a sieve. All of the snow glittered in the winter sunlight which reflected off her hair and slightly damp waterproofs. The distant hills were nothing but silhouettes cast on the cold, white background of the incoming snow clouds.

She looked towards the bottom of the hill as she was preparing to sledge down, when something attracted her attention. Something was down there floating out from behind a tree. The sun shone on it and she was startled as the light flashed in her eyes. When it had floated further away from the tree and out of the sunlight she looked back to it to see what it was. It looked like an orange balloon, but that couldn't be right; there was nobody else in the area, at least, there didn't seem to be.

She was pondering the balloon and wondering how it could have appeared there, when she felt a shiver creeping up her back, almost as if there was somebody standing behind her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and her skin turned to gooseflesh. She tried to shake off the thought, when the sledge started to slowly edge toward the slope. It was going too slowly for her to realise, but just before the sledge slipped down, another shiver flew up her spine, more violently this time; like something had pushed her, and she sped off down the hill, her hair flying out in waves behind her.

As she sped up further she saw that the balloon had disappeared. Where had it gone? She turned behind her to see who had pushed her, but there was nobody there. She then turned back to face the bottom of the hill that she was flying towards at an alarming pace. As she did so, she came face to face with something that looked a little like a cross between Ronald McDonald and Bozo the clown. She tried to scream but a very feeble attempt escaped her mouth; more like a squeak than anything else. The thing smiled back at her, realising her inability to do anything, exposing incredibly sharp teeth that resembled stalactites and stalagmites in an open cave as it did so. This time, a real scream did escape her mouth.


End file.
